Jon Rappoport
November 15, 2012

Election night on planet Earth is an illustration of the virtual reality we live in.

A news anchor on a network, who has learned how to impart information as if it is real, who can effortlessly assume a position of earnest authority, who seems to emanate the correct amount of empathy without descending into a cloying familiarity with the audience, who can seamlessly switch from reporting to giving way to other reporters to breaking for commercial, who can listen to instructions in his earpiece while talking at the same time, who can generate exactly the right amount of enthusiasm without straining credulity, who can appear to care about what he is reporting, who can maintain a pose of neutrality:

Tells us what the numbers are, and:

When the moment is right, makes the projection of the winner and the loser, as if:

The information comes through to him from an unimpeachable source.

The anchor can hand off to an analyst who explains why the projection is correct, who points to a map to reveal the breakdown.

It all passes before us, and the goal is to make us accept, and by accepting, believe.

The system is air-tight.

The truth has been made known.

The predictive power of unseen experts is formidable.

But, in fact, we are watching images and listening to voices on television, and what is actually happening in voting booths, what has been happening in voting booths, and what will happen in voting booths is a mystery.

However, as long as we are in the flow, we sense things are all right.

This virtual flow is a tiny corner of the Matrix in action.

What would happen, though, if out of nowhere, on our television screens, we saw an egg cracking and Donald Duck crawling out of it wearing a bright pink suit holding a handful of cash?

Right in the middle of an election projection for a senate race in New Jersey.

What would happen if the face of the anchor began to drip tears of steel as he was making a call on the presidential race in Ohio?

What would happen if we heard the Mormon Tabernacle Choir singing, “Something is happening here, but you don’t know what it is, do you, Mr Jones,” swelling in volume, until the anchor was drowned out and we could only see his mouth working in silence.

This is, in fact, the sort of thing that happens when you back up and analyze where the election information is coming from and discover you don’t know.

You do know, however, that the channel through which it is expressed is electronic and deploys computers.

You know that computers are programmed to deal with millions of crumbs in certain assigned ways.

So it occurs to you, like a joke unfolding, that if the situation were right, those machines could spit out anything.

They could say Bob Dylan or James Bond had just been elected the next president of the United States. They could.

So you wonder how that might be done. Then you wonder how it’s actually done, to produce the name of the winner you automatically accept as genuine and true and authentic. The real-real winner.

Then you realize the real-real winner could be no more real than President James Bond.

The Matrix is very much like a hall in a painting. You walk into the painting and you’re in the hall. Having arrived in the hall, you look for a room. You find one. There are books on the shelves and a fire in the fireplace. You sit down. A man comes in and tells you it’s raining and the guests for dinner may be a little late.

Someone painted a picture and you walked into it and took up residence. You believed.

When you stop believing, you can go back into the hall and find your way out of the painting.

In this world of ours, exposing “a flow of the virtual Matrix” for what it is can create a domino effect. If the transmission of election results is a mere charade, then what does that imply? What other slices of Matrix flow are fabricated?

As you expose one segment of flow, you already sense there are others to expose. Many segments of flow are linked up.

If you tell people you’ve just exposed a segment of flow, they may become annoyed. They are comfortably ensconced in the whole continuum of flow, and they want to see the show. They don’t want interruptions.

They don’t tell you this, of course. Instead, they reach out for and grab the most convenient story and use it to reject your discovery. It doesn’t matter what that story is. They treat it as holy fact.

But basically, they reject what you’re telling them because you’re the Donald Duck in a bright pink suit holding a handful of cash, and they were trying to watch a wholly engrossing news anchor project the next president of the United States.

Jon Rappoport’s official site is He is the author of the explosive collection, THE MATRIX REVEALED.

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